|"Heart Throb" dimensional appliqued fiber art, in progress, Lisa Broberg Quintana|
I snorted. Loudly.
I have been in a quandry about this for quite some time. Sometimes it seems like we are viewed as bits and pieces and no one really looks at us entirely. I don't know if they feel that cancer is the biggie we're fighting right now so looking at anything else is piddly, or if it just doesn't matter because cancer is going to kill us anyway.
When I started Abraxane, and started to have some side effects, I thought about driving down the 30 minutes to go to my oncologist to get some help. But my general practitioner was only 15 minutes away and surely he could handle a case of thrush....or my weeping hands.....or the rash. Most of the time, they just looked at me, called their co-workers in who looked at me, they shook their heads and I went off. Sometimes when I talk to my oncologist about problems I'm having which may or may not be cancer related and he shrugs and says, well....it might be bursitis..or whatever....and that's the end of that.
I have always been cautious of my heart.....afterall, my great-grandmother died of a heart attack at 51; my grandfather died of a massive heart attack at 68; my dad had his first heart attack at 50, his second at 72, and his third at 82. A couple of weeks ago, some of my friends asked me if I went to my regular doctor....they were concerned because several weeks earlier they thought my color was bad. I have pain in my sternum which is not cancer related and had severe fatigue...even though my blood counts were good and I hadn't been on chemo for three weeks. I still don't know what is going on. When ever I mention it...people nod....and go on. Is it that the Lyme Disease I contracted in 2010 is still active, even though I did a course of oral antibiotics? Is it something else? Who cares? Seemingly not my doctors.
It would be really great if the oncologist and the general practitioner would actually communicate. I would seem to me that we could actually get somewhere from this...in the meantime, I feel like it just doesn't matter. I don't get satisfaction for the issues of the rest of my body....because I am just a bunch of bits and pieces. And that is just plain wrong.